Firsts
by Prnc Ashee
Summary: Squee had shared countless firsts with the scary neighbor man. Series of small oneshots. Squee/Nny
1. Rose

**Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned here.**

Squee was fourteen when he received his first rose.

He hadn't been expecting anything for Valentine's Day; in fact, he expected to be sent away for the weekend. But instead, under the promise of staying out of sight, he was allowed to stay secluded in his room. So he used this weekend to do something he rarely got to do: unwind and write in his diary.

Friday night, the eve of St. Valentine's, he was up rather late. The neighbor (you know, _that_ guy) was keeping Squee awake with his victim's constant pleading and screaming. While scribbling away in his notebook, edgy eyes kept darting to the window and over to the shack next door. Eventually, however, his exhaustion took over and he fell asleep hunched over his diary.

Surprisingly, he slept soundly with no nightmares, and woke up comfortably curled under the mass of old blankets on his bed. He bolted up, his mind instantly jumping to the many kinds of boy-moving monsters in the world—but when his eyes landed on the single out-of-place red rose and folded note on his desk, the terrifying thoughts left his head.

He hopped out of bed and ambled over, his limbs still heavy from sleep. He stared at the little bundle, wondering who could've possibly gotten in while he was sleeping and would move him to his bed. He gingerly plucked the flower from its place on top of the folded paper and held it up, looking it over. From the soft, crimson petals to the dark green stem and lethal looking thorns, the rose looked completely delicate and full of beauty. He set it down carefully and ran down stairs to get a glass and water, coming up quickly and dropping it in the make-shift vase.

His eyes settled on the note. He sat down cautiously and reached out with a shaky hand. He hesitantly picked up the paper, unfolding it slowly to find a short letter in scratchy writing.

_Dear Squee,_

_ Roses are red,_

_ Violets are blue,_

_ Poems are cliché,_

_ There's better for you._

_Aha, see what I did there? Valentine's Day.. Completely corporate._

_Yet I felt compelled to bring you something. Oddities in quantities._

_You're getting older. Sharper. _

_Anyhow, neighbor of mine, I had a feeling you don't feel the __**love**__ (excuse_

_my blatant commercial language) and since you're such a nice little_

_Squee, I thought to surprise you. But no, not with a bed time story._

_A lone rose. Pretty nifty, huh?_

_I won't prattle on, however._

_Happy Valentine's Day, Squeegee._

_ Sincerely,_

_ -Nny_

_PS. A little secret for my dearest pal. Hang that rose upside down once _

_it starts to wilt. It will close and dry up, but it will retain its color._

_A marvelous bit of knowledge for future reference, and perhaps a method_

_of remembrance and souvenir of a special occasion. _

Squee folded the note back up neatly and tucked it inside the front cover of his diary. He carefully put the diary away underneath the desk and turned his attention to the rose. He leaned against his chair and watched the light travel and sparkle through the water, magnifying the green thorns. He found himself smiling despite who the collection was from, and for the first time, he was happy he met Johnny.

**A/N: Hullo, lovely readers.**

**This is just a collection of little fluffy dribbles of creativity that just wouldn't clean out of my head. It'll be updated sporadically, and I'm going to attempt to put them in chronological order, and they are linked. They will all start with a sentence much like the top of this selection.**

**Keep in mind this **_**is**_** light Nny/Squee. It will progress as Squeegee here gets older. **

**There will be **_**no**_** plot.**

**Though this is practically nothing, there will be little summaries at the top of future entries with ratings and such.**

**I hope you enjoy! Happy reading, pretties. Oh, and review(:**


	2. Butterflies

**Title: Butterflies**

**Rating: PG**

**Warnings: Close proximity, slightly un-Nny-like behavior.**

When he was fifteen, Squee had his first encounter with the fated "butterflies."

Skool had just gotten out, and he was dawdling behind everyone else in his class as to avoid any bullies or jerks he might have the misfortune to run into. When he finally left the English room ten whole minutes after school let out, there were small groups of girls clustered in the hallway and a few guys strolling around, but not many. He kept his head down and walked briskly, trying not to catch anyone's eye.

Squee opened the front door to the skool cautiously, peeking his head around the big metal door to take a quick look at the remaining teenagers outside. He inwardly flinched when he noticed that some of the idiots who made fun of him and shoved him around were loitering, most likely to harass their favorite toy. He swallowed thickly and pushed past the heavy door, keeping his head down in a weak attempt to avoid any confrontation. He had almost made it to the sidewalk and what he considered home free when it happened.

"Hey _Todd_," one of them sneered, stepping in front of him. Two others were standing behind him on either side with their arms crossed and smug looks on their faces. Squee fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead pulled his backpack closer to him. He kept silent, even when the one in front of him snarled and grabbed his shirt. The bully hoisted him up and slammed him into a nearby fence, effectively pinning him. "What's the matter, Todd? Your creepy friend isn't here to save you now!"

Squee inwardly scowled at the obscure mention of Pepito, and tried hard to keep his stony, straight face when he actually felt like curling into a ball and crying. He waited for a moment when their eyes were off him, and was rewarded when they all looked at each other to share a laugh. He hoisted his legs up quickly and used both of his feet to kick the biggest kid off him. He guessed he had only about two seconds to get away before his cronies recovered from shock and went after him, so he vaulted over the fallen teen and scrambled away as fast he could, sputtering apologies over his shoulder.

Squee sprinted down the sidewalk, going as fast as he could to get away. He knew that he had probably just signed his own death certificate, and even if he escaped them today, he would get it triple the next. As soon as he felt as if he had gotten a considerable distance away, he slowed down to a walk. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head exasperatedly, wishing nothing more than to melt into the sidewalk. "Damn it," he swore, adjusting the straps on his bag. He dusted his shirt and pants off idly, glancing around him to see where he was at. He spotted the 24/7 store just up the street, and let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't far from home now, he would be fine.

He set off at a comfortable walk, feeling considerably better now that he knew he was in a safe zone. At least he thought so before he heard the pounding footsteps behind him. He whipped around just in time to catch the two teens that hadn't been injured chasing after him. He panicked for a moment and took off at a dead run toward the store. He didn't register there was a person just ahead of him until after he sent then both crashing to the ground.

"Ugh, the fuck— my brain freezy! Damn it! Wait, Squeegee?" The person spluttered, looking between the drink that had gone flying and the boy on top of him. Squee lifted himself off said person's chest and stared down at Johnny incredulously, wondering if his luck could possibly get any worse. "Oh god Johnny please don't kill me I was running from those jerks they're going to kill me too please ohgodIdon'twanttodie—" Squee rambled, not stopping his long winded explanation even when Johnny shoved him off and stood.

"These assholes are after you?" Johnny asked furiously, one eye narrowed as he took in the disgruntled appearances of the teens that had finally caught up. Johnny held a hand out to Squee and hauled the boy up, an arm protectively wrapped around his shoulders holding him close to the man. "I sincerely hope you fuckers don't think you're going to touch a hair on his body ever again."

The two boys seemed to eye up Johnny and decide the lanky man wasn't much of a threat. "He kicked our friend! He's gonna pay!" One of them shouted bravely, taking a step forward. Johnny quirked an eyebrow and pushed Squee behind him, taking his own step forward in the process. He crossed his arms and looked down at the stocky boy with a grin on his face. "Hee, seriously? I'm looking forward to kicking both of your asses."

The teenagers looked at each other and back at Johnny, tilting their heads confusedly. The first one took a step forward with his fists raised. Johnny's grin grew, a maniacal glint in his eye as the boy took a swing at him. Johnny caught his hand and twisted swiftly, pulling the boy down by his arm and bringing a booted foot up. He kicked the teen in the face and watched amusedly as he fell to the ground, cradling his now broken wrist to his chest and holding his face with the other hand. He brought his eyes up to the other teen, whose jaw was hanging open in shock.

Squee watched with a horrified expression, and when Johnny made a move toward the second boy Squee snagged his coat sleeve. "Wait, Nny—please don't, you already hurt the other one," he begged, turning his eyes up at the man with what Johnny would later call 'Squeegee's ultimate puppy-dog stare.' Johnny stopped dead and fixed Squee with a hard stare, but seemed to chalk up the boy's kindness toward his attackers to childhood naivety. Johnny sighed and put an arm around Squee's shoulders once more, turning his glare to the two scared idiots.

"If you touch him again, I'll fucking kill you," Johnny spat, steering Squee in the other direction. Squee hummed and leaned into the man, turning his eyes up to his savior. His stomach erupted into what he would later learn to be butterflies as he gazed at the crazy man he called his neighbor.

**A/N: Meh, I'm not very proud of this at all. I honestly think this was the one out of my list of firsts I was looking forward to writing the least, though.**


	3. Embrace

**Title: Embrace**

**Rating: T **

**Warnings:****Strong****language,****caring!Nny**

Squee was sixteen when he was embraced for the first time.

He had been bed ridden for two weeks; there had been a nasty bug going around. He, of course, had gotten hit the hardest—he was always an ill child. His survival was actually pretty dependent on his friend Pepito—the devil boy had been checking on him periodically and fetching him medications, liquids, and hot broth when needed. This day, however, Pepito was regrettably busy. Squee had waved him off with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and told him that he knew the other had a life he needed to live.

And so Squee was buried in a heavy cocoon of blankets and sheets, burning up with a nasty fever of one hundred two point two with three perspiration covered bottles of water on his nightstand. His eyes were half lidded and felt as if they were going to melt in his pounding head, his body somehow shivering and having the nerve to feel a little too cool over his mounds of covers. He was panting through his mouth, his nose too clogged to breathe through, with a small mountain of tissues nearly cascading over the lip of his trash can. A powder blue box of tissues was sitting forgotten behind the water, alongside a bottle of Nyquil and a bag of cough drops.

Squee reached out and weakly grabbed at a bottle of water, groaning and putting the wet item across his forehead in an attempt to cool his head down. His eyes slid shut as the liquid slipped off the plastic and down his skin, leaving annoying trails as the drops made their way to his pillow case. He let out a weak sigh and went limp once more. He loathed being sick. His body felt _so__weak_.

He cracked his eyes open and peered toward the window as he heard it slide open. Johnny had already climbed through and was sliding it shut delicately, as to keep the cold air outside. Visits were now routine; as Squee had grown, Johnny steadily became a more prominent part of his life. Johnny tugged the fluffy hat off his head and took his mittens off, setting them on Squee's desk. His brow was furrowed as he took in Squee's appearance. "Holy shit, Squeegee; you look like death warmed over. How long have you been sick?" He asked, kicking off his signature boots near the window.

Squee watched wearily as Johnny walked over to his bedroom door and turned the lock (it had become an unspoken rule after the third time his father had nearly walked in while Johnny was there). "Two weeks," was what Squee had tried to say, but his voice came out more hoarse than he thought it would. He coughed into his elbow and tried to clear his throat, only succeeding in making it that much sorer.

Johnny tilted his head like a confused puppy, his eyes wide as he listened to Squee wheeze. He let out a sigh through his nose and crossed the room once again, taking a seat at Squee's desk to doodle idly as he talked. "Your immune system must be shit." When Squee didn't answer after a few long moments, he looked up from the paper he had stolen from a notebook. "Are you still alive?"

Squee lifted the water bottle off his head and pushed it half heartedly onto the small stand next to the others. "Barely," he croaked, letting his hand fall to his forehead tiredly. He could feel his eyes drooping with sickness and he imagined they also had a yellow tint to them at this point. "I think I'd rather die…" He turned his gaze to Johnny and was faintly surprised to see the man stripping off his coat and walking over toward the bed. "What are you doing?"

Johnny stood over Squee, silently pressing a cool hand to his forehead. "Fuck, Squee, you're burning up," he said softly, his brows knitting together in worry as he realized how ill the teen was. "Hang on, I'll be right back." With that, the eccentric man darted over to the bedroom door to fumble with the lock and out of the room. Squee stared at the door in confusion, his mind moving sluggishly and trying to keep up with the insane man's actions. His diligence was rewarded when a few moments later Johnny reentered, kicking the door shut and turning the lock once more. He bounced over to Squee with a small grin on his face, a damp rag in his hands. He laid the cool material over Squee's flushed forehead, and the boy swore he could have kissed him. It felt so _cool_ against his simmering skin. Squee's eyes fell shut as he enjoyed the sensation.

Johnny busied himself with pouring a capful of the half-full bottle medicine, gently prodding the teenager and urging him to drink it. After he accomplished this task, he shoved a bottle of water toward Squee's face and stared at him expectantly. Squee grudgingly took a few gulps of the liquid before he set it back on the nightstand with a shaking hand and curled back up, a soft sigh passing his lips. Johnny peeled the blankets away from the flushed boy and slid into the bed with him, pushing him toward the wall to make room for both of them. He threw the heavy layer of fabric back over them both, ignoring Squee's small noises of protest at the bed invader, and instead wound his arms tightly around the teen, one arm across his back and the other snaking up his spine to hold Squee's head against his shoulder. "Shush. Rest."

Squee tried pulling away a few times; the man was _cold_. But soon his own body heat warmed the maniac up and he melted. His feverish body went limp and he willed himself to relax and enjoy the attention. He could tell that the older man was uncomfortable, but Squee knew how much of an effort he was making. His heart fluttered in his chest and a small smile graced his face as he snuggled closer. He could have sworn Johnny mumbled something suspiciously like "I'll be here when you wake up," just before he dropped off into a dreamless sleep; but perhaps that was the fever talking.

**A/N:****I****hate****being****sick.****I****feel****your****pain,****dearest****Squee****:s**

** Reviews are lovely. :) **


	4. Kiss

**Title: Kiss**

**Rating: T **

**Warnings: OOC!Nny, pedophilia (since Squee ain't 18 yet), gay men.**

The day of Squee's seventeenth birthday, he stole his first kiss.

He had been on his way home from school, his messenger back bouncing against his hip with each even step he took. Headphones covered his ears, soft music flowing out of them smoothly from a small music player stuffed in his pocket. The wind blew his scarf around in front of him and crunchy leaves fell underneath his feet. Today was no different from any other fall day, he thought. He was content to forget it was even his birthday.

He twisted the old door knob to his house, glancing over to the little shack next door momentarily before stepping inside and kicking off his shoes next to the door. He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, his scarf following suit, before he let out a soft sigh and made his way across the living room and upstairs. When he opened his bedroom door, he got the shock of his life.

Johnny was standing on his bed, stretching to tack the last streamer to the corner over his pillows. The whole room was decorated by brightly colored streamers hanging everywhere, paper swirls, paper chain links, and many home-made odds and ends. Squee dropped his bag in surprise and his jaw dropped. Johnny glanced over at the noise, a grin set firmly in place. He hopped off Squee's bed and skipped over to the stunned teen, ruffling his soft ebony hair. "Happy birthday, Squeegee!"

Squee continued to stare at all of the dangling décor, even as Johnny slipped behind him to close the door and twist the lock. He took in all of the bright colors, his lips quirking up at the ends as he noticed they were mostly all of his favorite colors. He noticed that his desk was littered with paper scraps and had some glue and a pair of scissors haphazardly skewed across it. He only realized that Johnny was wearing a party hat when said man placed one on his head. Squee glanced up and laughed when he recognized that they were Halloween themed.

"I hope you like it," Johnny said seriously, fixing the younger male with an eerie stare. "Because I spent all day with glue on my hands getting paper cuts." Squee beamed, throwing his arms around the man's neck and snuggling close. "Thank you," he mumbled against the man's skin, smiling as Johnny tentatively and awkwardly returned his hug.

Johnny gently pushed him off and gestured toward his bed, an anxious look on his face. Squee frowned as he spotted a small bag sitting innocently on his blankets. "You did all this _and_got me a present?" He asked, tugging Johnny with him over to it. "I feel bad. That's way too much. But I really do appreciate it…"

Johnny rolled his eyes and shoved Squee onto the bed, smirking a little as he did a face plant. "Just open it." He sat on the opposite end of the bed, one leg curled up against his chest as he watched the teen fumble with the excessive amounts of tissue paper. He perked up a little bit as Squee paused before he pulled out the small journal that was inside. The teen spread his fingers across the deep lavender dyed cover, slowly untying the strings that kept it closed. His eyes scanned over the messy scrawl that greeted him on the first page. He closed the book gently before he placed it on the bed and reached back into the bag to pull out the small inkwell and a new calligraphy pen. He examined them briefly before packing them back into the bag and settling his stare on Johnny.

The man stiffened at the serious expression and watched as Squee made his way over to where the man was sitting. He stared up at the boy, mirroring his expression. He was stunned when Squee smiled at him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. It was only a soft pressure for a quick second before he pulled away, leaving Johnny unsure if what had just happened, actually happened. He furrowed his eyebrows together and shot Squee a curious look. The boy responded to him with a pat on the head. "Thank you so much. This is the best birthday I've ever had."

**A/N: -n- Ugh. Reviews are cool, y'know?**


	5. Fight

**Title: Fight**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Mild violence, lots of language, OOC!Johnny. (all of these will probably have OOC!Johnny as a warning lolol)**

Squee was eighteen when he and Johnny had their first full blown fight.

He would admit later that it was his fault. One of Pepito's friends he had been introduced to a couple years back had scored some good bud, and had insisted that he try it for the first time with him. Squee had denied the invitation vehemently and told him that he had somewhere to be, but ultimately had been coerced into smoking marijuana with Brian and couple other boys Squee had been acquainted with in the past. He had been led into Chris's (one of Brian's friends) shabby apartment and had been placed into the small ring of stoners. He had watched with dread in his stomach as Chris packed a bowl with sweet smelling bud and had tried to leave several times, only to have Brian clap a reassuring hand on his shoulder and flash him a brilliant smile. Enthusiastic encouragement and a firm hand on his wrist when he made to leave the last time was all it took to make him give in.

Squee choked on his first hit and handed off the pipe to someone else hastily, coughing for a good minute and refusing the bowl when it came around to him. The third time is passed through, Squee tried again. This time he puffed, taking a little of the wafting smoke into his lungs and then some air. He held it in for a good few seconds before exhaling, marveling at the smoke that came from him. He giggled a little and before he knew it, the bowl was smoked through and he was starting to feel tingly.

It was when his senses started to fail him that he got antsy. His eye sight was sluggish and lagging and his body was buzzing. He felt as if he was dreaming the entire thing. He laid back on the floor and shared idle conversation that he wasn't even aware he was really a part of, the room swimming in front of him. He was limp for a good fifteen minutes before he rolled over to look at Brian. "Dude, I need to call my boyfriend. I _need_ to." Never mind that he and Johnny weren't officially _anything,_though they did act it in the privacy of their homes. What he got was a cell phone tossed toward his face, which hit dead center on his forehead. There was a dull roar of laughter for a few moments (that included Squee, oddly enough) before it tapered off into disjointed giggles and murmurs of amusement. Squee flipped the phone open and struggled with the numbers for a few moments before he finally decided it was close enough and pressed send.

It rung a few times before the receiver on the other end clicked and a static voice came through to him. ".._Hello?_"

"Johnny," he gushed over the line, rolling over into his stomach and further away from the boys in the center of the little apartment living room. "Hey, can you please come get me? _Please_?"

"_What?_" Johnny asked incredulously, and Squee could imagine the face he was making at that moment. "_Squee,__is__that__you?__Where__are__you__at?__I__thought__you__were__coming__over__after__you__got__out__of__school__—_"

Squee cut him off with an airy chuckle. "End of the school year celebration with some friends," he murmured, letting his eyes slip closed as he talked. "I'm somewhere in the city. Some apartment building. It's on Pennsylvania Ave or someshit. I'm gonna go wait for you outside, okay?" He lazily hung up the phone as he heard Johnny start to question him some more, tossing it over to Brian again.

He didn't bother to verbalize a goodbye, opting instead to sling his bag over his shoulder and throw a half hearted wave over his shoulder to the other boys. He hummed on the elevator ride down, and threw himself on a nearby bench. He waited for a good twenty minutes, his head bobbing back and forth and blinking his eyes tightly. He looked up as Johnny's car pulled up next to him, the man tapping on his wheel impatiently and looking nothing short of venomous.

Squee didn't take notice and plopped into the passenger's seat, leaning to toss his bag into the back. He pulled the door closed and leaned over to give the man a kiss, throwing him a confused look as Johnny pulled back away from him with a snarl. "What the fuck have you been doing? You reek—is that pot? Look at me," Johnny reached over and gripped his chin, forcing his head straight. Squee squinted at him and frowned, a small amount of panic seeping into his system. "Oh my god," Johnny growled, letting go of Squee as if he was contaminated. "You're _fucking__high._ Goddamn it, Todd. What the hell." He slapped a hand against the steering wheel and roughly shifted the car into drive. He growled loudly and peeled away from the curb and in the direction of his home.

"Johnny?" Squee squeaked, reaching over tentatively to rest a hand on the man's thigh. He tried to rub small soothing circles, but was immediately slapped away. "Don't fucking touch me," Johnny hissed, pointedly glaring ahead of him. "You are in so much trouble, you little asshole. It's a wonder you had me fooled for so long—you're fucking trash, just like everyone else in this shit hole. Just—just, don't touch me. You're going to my house, you're going to take a fucking nap, and as soon as you wake up we're going to have a talk."

Squee kept silent the rest of the ride, wishing that his senses would come back to normal. He didn't say a word when Johnny slammed the car door as hard as he could, or when he roughly threw the door open. He didn't react when Johnny grabbed the back of his shirt collar and dragged him to the bed room, or when the man seemed to hesitate before he somewhat-gently pushed Squee onto the bed and covered him up. He flinched as the door slammed shut, but promptly passed out a few moments later.

Squee woke up later with a dull headache, rolling over with a groan. He stretched a wave of nausea quickly rolled through him as he remembered Johnny's anger filled glare. He sat up and gripped the blankets in his fists for a few long minutes before he decided he couldn't hide in bed forever, no matter how much wanted to.

He hesitantly pushed the bedroom door open and slipped into the hallway. He spotted Johnny in the living room, curled up on his old couch with a hand on his forehead. He looked to be in deep thought. Squee swallowed thickly and ventured into the room, pondering briefly whether or not he should touch the man. He sunk into the cushion next to his friend, squeezing his knees to his chest and looking up at Johnny through his fringe, feeling very much like a little boy who had done wrong. "Hi, Johnny," he said softly, averting his gaze to the floor anxiously.

"What possessed you to do drugs, Todd?" Johnny asked, shaking his head. Squee leaned in the opposite direction as he noticed his free hand was curled into a tight fist. "Tread carefully; I have half a mind to throw you out now and not bother with any shit explanation you could make up."

Squee uncertainly reached out and laid a shaking hand on Johnny's twitching fist. He looked up at Johnny's face, which was still half covered by his hand. He couldn't see his eyes, but he saw the grimace on his lips. "I-I don't know," He started in a small voice, gently pawing at the man's leg. "Brian wanted me to so bad. He said he had some really good weed and he wanted to be my first time smoking. I didn't want to, he told me it could be a one time thing and he would stop bothering me—"

"Fuck that, Casil," Johnny spat, swatting away Squee's hand and standing up. Squee stood up, hurt by the use of his last name and sensing Johnny's reignited fury. "You have free will. You could have walked away. That's just shit. Sure, its marijuana this time, what happens when it's fucking meth? What happens when some lowlife you think is your friend approaches you with cocaine and begs you to try it with them? That's not a friend Todd; that's a parasite. People are fucking parasites." Johnny narrowed his eyes at Squee and barreled on. "You have shit judgment. How could you have possibly let that happen? That decision just leveled you with the trash of this city."

Squee felt a pang of anger at Johnny's insult. "I make one little mistake and now you think I'm a bad person…? So this past year means nothing if I fuck up once? What the hell is wrong with you, Johnny?"

Johnny's knuckles cracked as his whole body tensed. He started shaking with the effort to keep his temper in check. "There was _nothing_ special about this past year, kid." He vaguely noticed that Squee's eyes turned a shade darker. "And there's nothing fucking wrong with _me_; where in the hell would you get the idea that ditching me to go smoke with those douche bags would be _okay_?"

Squee felt tears building up in his eyes. "If I don't mean anything to you, then why do you care!" He shouted, holding his hands up to his chest and not bothering to stop the salty water that was slowly making its way down his face. "I dedicate a fucking year of my life to you and this is how you treat me? Fuck you!" He turned away and practically ran down the hallway, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him. He curled up on the bed and tried to hold in his sobs.

Johnny was greeted by Squee's middle finger as he entered the room, roughly closing the door behind him. "I didn't ask for your year, Todd," he began, spite in his voice. He leaned against the door heavily and crossed his arms, eyeing the crying teen. Squee glared at him from the bed, inching toward the edge. "It was your own mistake to assume there was something more between us. You never made that clear." Johnny kept his eyes trained on Squee, knowing that the teen was going to try to take a swing at him from his gait. What he didn't expect was to actually be hit, and _hard_.

"Fuck you!" Squee screamed, seeming to forget how to properly punch as he pounded against Johnny's chest with his fists. "You're an asshole! I don't know why—" He kept screaming at the man even when his wrists were confined by Johnny's hands, and he tried kicking at the bruised man as he was moved backwards toward the bed. He ignored Johnny's protests and tried one last kick at the man, not bothering to check if he hit his mark before he curled up and started sobbing.

Johnny sat onto the bed next to Squee, wrapping his arms around the shaking boy's body, gently shushing him. Because that's what he was still—a boy. And he had just made him feel like the lowest thing on the earth. Johnny's heart sank as he tried to think of how he could possibly begin to make it better. "I'm sorry," he mumbled against Squee's neck, planting small kisses wherever he could reach. "I was angry; I shouldn't have said all those things I did. I'm sorry—" He flinched away as Squee tried to shove him off. He took in his red, puffy face and the tear stains down his cheeks. The way he was chewing on his lip to hold in his sobs. He didn't know what to do.

Squee glared at Johnny for a few tense moments before his eyes softened and more tears welled up. He leaned heavily into the man and wound his arms tightly around his torso, burying his face into the older man's neck. Johnny awkwardly brought an arm around Squee to rub circles into his back, his other hand coming up to run through his hair soothingly. They stayed like that for a while, until Squee's hiccups quieted into shallow breathing.

Squee peeled himself away from the other, stroking Johnny's bruised cheek. He stared at him with blood shot eyes and a troubled frown. "Tell me I was dreaming and I didn't actually hit you and get away with it," he said light-heartedly, though his voice didn't match his expression. Silence settled over them for a moment before Squee broke it once more. "Please tell me that you didn't mean it when you said the last year means nothing to you. I don't think I could deal with that properly. I didn't realize that affection and kisses and date-like-things didn't mean a thing unless they're acknowledged out loud…"

"I was being an asshole," Johnny clarified, ignoring Squee's snort of affirmation. "You actually mean quite a lot to me, even if I am greatly disappointed in you at the moment. Enough for me to say something along the lines of… I'm sorry, and I hope whole-heartedly that you will take me in all of my bitchy glory, officially."

The teen narrowed his eyes and looped his arms around the other's neck, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his pulse. "You better hope I like you enough to keep you around even though you're an ass," he murmured, letting Johnny plant a series of small kisses to his lips. One long, deep kiss later, Squee had a soft smile on his face. "I guess. But only if you turn off the light and come back over here and snuggle me until I fall asleep."

**A/N: This is the longest one yet. XD Oh yey. And if I have any readers who like to toke, do it up. I don't mind it, it's just not my favorite thing.**

**Review, my lovelies, make me a happy clam3**


	6. Love

**Title: Love**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Fluff, gay men, OOC!Johnny**

Squee was nineteen when he realized Johnny was his first love.

They had been spending a lazy Sunday together, Johnny sitting upright with Squee curled up, his head on the man's lap while they watched some mindless drama on television. Johnny had been running his hand along Squee's side absently, paying minimal attention to the screen and honing in to Squee's reactions. He had grinned wickedly and proceeded to viciously attack the other's ticklish spots with his deft fingers, producing a girly squeal and causing Squee to instinctually roll away and flop onto the floor in a graceless pile.

Squee stared up at him breathlessly, watching Johnny cackle. He didn't move fast enough to manage escape as the man dove on top of him, pinning him to the floor and he tickled him mercilessly. Squee shrieked with laughter and thrashed on the floor, trying and failing to kick at the man above him. There was a small struggle for a few moments filled with lots of cussing and giggles before Squee was able to roll over on top of the man. He jumped up and over the couch quickly, trying to catch his breath as he fled to the bedroom. He barely managed the slam the door behind him before Johnny could slip past him.

"No!" Squee yelled through the door to him, leaning against the wood to keep it closed. He flicked the lock and fled to the bed, burying himself in the pillows. He could hear Johnny chuckling at him, most likely tinkering with the lock from the other side. Squee squeezed a pillow to his chest, a playful grin stretched across his cute face. He clutched it harder when the doorknob twisted, opening to reveal his boyfriend.

Squee made a nervous noise and tucked his legs closer to his body as Johnny approached, a kind smile on his face. "No no no," he said quickly, holding the pillow like a weapon, "don't touch me. I'll hit you!" There was a tense moment as each sized the other up, before Johnny dodged the pillow thrown at him and dove at the younger man on their bed. "Noo!" Squee screeched, clawing at his lover's arms, laughing against his will as the other's probing fingers explored his flesh.

Squee snatched another pillow from above them and brought it down on Johnny's head repeatedly, letting out a victory cry as the other let go of him. He hopped off the bed and smiled mischievously, nodding his head toward the discarded pillow on the floor and beckoning the other closer. They both got lost in their pillow fight, laughing together and throwing taunts back and forth.

Johnny finally tossed the pillow and pushed the other onto his back on the bed, following him tearing the other pillow from Squee's grasp. "No more," he panted, falling over to lay next to the boy with a smile. Squee rolled over to sit on top of him, laying down against his torso and breathing softly against his neck. His eyes fell closed and he laid his hands against his chest, feeling the other's heartbeat. He pressed a gentle kiss to the other's pulse, using his arms to support him as he lifted his head to stare down at Johnny. They studied each other briefly, a comfortable silence falling over them like a warm blanket. Johnny gently pushed Squee over and they tumbled together once more as Johnny laid on top of him.

Squee extended his arms and wound them around the other's neck loosely, tugging him down for a slow, languid kiss. Their lips moved together chastely, before they deepened the kiss and shifted closer. After a few long moments, they pulled apart and leaned their foreheads together. "I love you," Squee breathed, a bit of fear leaking into his voice. Johnny stroked his hair and smirked. "Thank you," he said, his voice pleasantly low. Squee shivered and his grasp on the man tightened. "I love you too," he said softly, his eyes slipping shut as they kissed again, both smiling against each other.

**A/N: :l Bluh. I hate this one with a passion. I've been out of sorts lately, sorry. :/ Well the next one has potential to be a really dirty one. I can either post that if anyone wants to read it or I can move on with the not pervy stuff lawl. If I get enough people that want me to post it I will. It's mostly written already. **

**Reviews, pwease? :c**


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